


Take Me, I'm Yours

by kurooos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Shance Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: Shiro has been a sleeper soldier for the Galra Empire all along and he comes for Lance. He does not fail.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shance Week day 2: hero/villain!  
> I chose villain because I mean my day one fic was sort of heroic almost. Anyway, this isn't beta'd, enjoy!

Lance gasped, fingers scrambling against the metal wrist under his chin. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even scream out for help. What was worse was the smile and the yellow eyes bearing down in front of him, taunting, telling him to quiet down.

"Shir-"

He tried, unable to get enough breath to even speak his boyfriend's name. With lead in his stomach and limbs feeling numb he wanted nothing more than to scream. He wanted to punch into Shiro's chest and get him away.

No. this wasn't Shiro. Shiro wouldn't be doing this. Shiro wouldn't be digging his fingers into Lance’s throat and smiling about it. Shiro wouldn't have hunted him down through the castle halls.

Lance didn't know the full story but the Castle had completely lost power. Lance was thankfully already in the training room, flinching when the lights went out and plunged him into darkness.

He had turned around, nearly missing a galra soldier coming at him with a sickle-looking weapon. It didn't take him the slightest hesitation to yell and back away, reaching for his bayard that was behind him.

Upon running out of the training room, only guided by the emergency red lights in the halls, he rounded a corner and slammed right into Shiro. He had fumbled with his bayard and stammered out an apology, not noticing Shiro staring at him. Shiro hadn't said anything, just continued to look, galran prosthetic glowing purple. From there it seemed like everything blurred. Shiro took a swipe at Lance who ducked and stepped back to have distance. He couldn't get an answer from the leader no matter what he asked or what he yelled at him. The yellow eyes had spooked him into action, turning tail and running. He wouldn't fight Shiro, he didn't want to hurt him.

That was his first mistake. And he told himself that when Shiro was around his next corner and clotheslined him. In a blink Shiro was on top of him, yanking his bayard away and throwing it down the hall.

Lance struggled, knowing where to hit, how to block the hands coming at him. He shouted, tried to call for someone to help him out. Shiro continuously tried reaching for his neck, to punch at his face.

His stamina was greater than Shiro's but his strength was not. The scuffle lasted barely a minute before Shiro grabbed grabbed his wrist and squeezed enough to make Lance hesitate with his next block. The resulting hand on his throat left him trying to buck his boyfriend off.

The fingers tightened and he gasps, trying to call for Shiro, maybe get him back to his senses.

"The weakest link was always you." Shiro coos, tone sweet and caring, "the insecurities, the cockiness, it all helped us."

Lance just about chokes when he feels warm energy against his stomach, under his shirt. He tries to shake his head, eyes searching Shiro's face.

"Shhh." He was told, the fingers on his throat loosening but still holding him down.

"Don't." He pleaded, squirming, hands flat on Shiro's chest and pushing. The other didn't listen, rubbing soothing circles on Lance's chest with his fingertips, the silicon grips of the prosthetic warm and smooth with energy.

He could feel tears in his eyes, watching Shiro lean back, press his hips down into Lance's. His body immediately reacted, warmth pooling in his gut and trailing lower.

No no no. This was wrong. So wrong. He frowned, hands moving again to grab Shiro's hand to stop him. It only made something spark in Shiro.

The bigger male smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed softly. Lance couldn't describe the look in his eyes as anything but hysterical.

Suddenly, fingers were circling a nipple and hips were rolling down and Lance couldn't keep his composure. He whined, head falling back onto the floor.

"What are you-" Shiro tightened his hand again, effectively cutting Lance off and making him buck.

"So pretty, Lance. You’ve always been such a good boy." Shiro crooned, thumb giving one last brush over sensitive skin before trailing down. "Will you keep being a good boy for me?”

His eyes felt like they might roll out of his head when Shiro put his hand between his legs. He shook his head, immediately grabbing Shiro’s arm and digging his fingers in. It only encouraged Shiro to lean his weight forward, cutting Lance’s air off again.

“Tsk tsk. Come on. I know how good you can be. You’re such an obedient boy. We could use an asset like you in the Empire.” He smiled, seemingly enjoying Lance gaping like a fish out of water. Lance wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted though. He firmly said no.

The resulting punch to the side of his face was disorienting, even more so that it was a fist of unforgiving metal. He immediately felt blood pool in his mouth and dribble out of his mouth. He did his best to spit at Shiro, only making a mess of his chin. “Fuck you.”

Oh did he regret those words. It only made Shiro angry, only made every touch hard and bruising. Possessive. Dominating. His screams echoed down the halls, still loud even when Shiro gagged him with his shirt rolled up. Every punch, every thrust, every disgusting praise and threat and insult added to the weight on Lance’s shoulders, threatening to snap him in half. And god did he break, cumming over Shiro’s fingers and his world fading black.

* * *

 

His first kill had been a commanding general.

Zarkon had sent for a check up, curious as to how his ex-paladin duo had been doing in their conquerings. That, without need of elaboration, was going just fine. What hadn’t been going fine was the interrogation from a large, burly galra.

Lance repeatedly told him to back off, to stop being antagonizing. Of course the idiot didn’t listen. He was new in his position, that much had been clear. When the young general placed his hands on Shiro, shoved him, Lance had a knife spilling blood immediately, a snarl curling his lip.

Shiro looked at him with shock, different emotions flickering around before his eyes grew darker and he growled low, primal, _hungry_ and pulled Lance into a kiss. Neither of them cared about the blood splattered across Lance’s face, neither of them cared about tongues tangling and picking up on the hint of the sour blood.

Lance pulled away, briefly, to tell their Lord Zarkon that things were fine, that a disturbance of peace had led to a fight, but now Zarkon was down one idiot. The pleased grin he received made Shiro place his hand warm and proud on his back. The video call ended rather hastily after.

The two made quick work of shedding elegant, dark armor.

When Lance fell into their shared bed, groaning from teeth against his shoulder and bullying his way in between Shiro’s thighs, he thought how life could get any better than this.

Once the Galra Empire had complete control of the universe, then maybe, just maybe it could. But for now, being with Shiro like this was good enough.


End file.
